


Daring to Begin

by hogwartswitch



Series: An Unknown Error Has Occurred [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Honeymoon, M/M, Orgasm, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Sequel, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartswitch/pseuds/hogwartswitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel ficlet to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3677157">An Unknown Error Has Occurred</a>. Gregory and Mycroft's honeymoon shenanigans in Santorini.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daring to Begin

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet is a sequel to [An Unknown Error Has Occurred](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3677157). While it's not required that you read that one first, I'd highly recommend it.
> 
> I wrote this as a gift to my readers for the loyalty and support I received while writing An Unknown Error Has Occurred. I hope you all enjoy this little slice of life outside of the e-mails!
> 
> And if you're new to my writing, I hope you'll check out [the rest of my works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartswitch/works). :)

  
_All glory comes from daring to begin._  
\--Shakespeare

__  
Santorini  


_Sunday - Messages_

To: Sherlock  
From: Mycroft

Did you know that Santorini is the product of a massive volcanic explosion?

***

_Sunday - Messages_

To: Mycroft  
From: Sherlock

Aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon?

***

_Sunday - Messages_

To: Sherlock  
From: Mycroft

I AM on my honeymoon.

***

_Sunday - Messages_

To: Mycroft  
From: Sherlock

Yes, but aren't you supposed to be enjoying it?

***

_Sunday - Messages_

To: Sherlock  
From: Mycroft

I'm sitting beside the pool in one of the most exclusive hotels in Santorini, watching my husband swim and admiring his shoulders and back in the water. I'd say I'm enjoying it a lot.

***

_Sunday - Messages_

To: Mycroft  
From: Sherlock

Okay, okay, I don't need details. Why are you texting me, then?

***

_Sunday - Messages_

To: Sherlock  
From: Mycroft

I thought you'd find that fact interesting. Also, I wanted to make sure everything was all right.

***

_Sunday - Messages_

To: Mycroft  
From: Sherlock

The children are fine, mother hen.

***

_Sunday - Messages_

To: Sherlock  
From: Mycroft

[DRAFT]

I really don't see how you can fault me for being concerned about my new family--

***

"Put that away, won't you?" Gregory grinned, dripping water on Mycroft's legs as he wrapped his fingers around the mobile and slipped it out of Mycroft's hands.

Mycroft wondered, three years in, whether his heart would ever stop flopping around in his chest when Gregory smiled at him. He hoped not. He returned the smile, shielding his eyes against the brilliant Grecian sun as he looked up at his new husband.

"I was just making sure everything was fine with Sherlock and John." He said, not making any attempt to snatch the phone back.

"They're fine." Gregory insisted, bracing his arms on the wall behind Mycroft's deck chair and leaned down to press his lips to Mycroft's.

He smelled of chlorine from the pool and sun-warmed skin. Mycroft reached up and tangled his fingers in Gregory's wet hair, his tongue slipping over teeth as he moved into the kiss. Gregory moved to kiss the spot just below Mycroft's ear and then gently nipped his earlobe.

"Let's go down to the beach." He whispered, his voice gravelly.

Mycroft wrapped his arms around Gregory's neck and pulled him closer, questing once more for his lips. "Mmm... or we could stay in?"

A laugh bubbled up as Gregory lowered himself on the deck chair, straddling Mycroft's hips with his legs. "Compromise." He whispered, continuing his trail of kisses from Mycroft's ear, down his neck and along his collarbone. "Let's go to the beach for an hour or two and then we can come back and have dinner poolside."

Mycroft pressed a kiss to Gregory's forehead and nodded. "Anything you wish, love."

Gregory smiled against Mycroft's skin, lightly nipping at it before pulling away and helping Mycroft to his feet. They went inside to dry off and change into shorts and lightweight t-shirts. Gregory rooted around in their bags, withdrawing two pairs of sunglasses.

"Better top up on the sunscreen, too." He cautioned, looking over the top of his sunglasses after he'd put them on.

Sunscreen applied, sandals donned, and they were ready to leave. They'd splurged on a compact rental car to get them around the island so they wouldn't have to rely on taxis or buses - or, Gregory joked, donkeys. They rented a sporty, black Peugeot convertible that easily navigated the twists and turns of the Santorini roads. Gregory climbed behind the wheel and Mycroft took the passenger seat, resting his head back and closing his eyes for the drive.

They headed for Perivolos Beach, about a twenty-five minute drive. Gregory plugged his mobile into the stereo system and started a playlist of relaxing instrumental music. He rested his hand comfortably on Mycroft's knee, when he wasn't shifting the car into gear, and pulled drove leisurely towards the beach.

***

Dark volcanic sand covered most of Santorini's beaches. The sand became blisteringly hot in the mid-day sun. The cliffs loomed behind them as Mycroft and Gregory strolled across the beach to the bank of chairs and umbrellas set up, overlooking the ocean. Gregory bought a couple of cocktails at a nearby stand and they stretched out together to enjoy the view.

"We could have done this in the hotel, you know." Mycroft pointed out.

"Why spend money to travel to Greece and not see some of the sights?" Gregory replied, laughing.

"I like the sights I see in our hotel." Mycroft arched a brow and leered at Gregory suggestively.

Gregory smirked and scooted his chair nearer to Mycroft's. He brushed back a wisp of red hair that had escaped Mycroft's neat coif, trailing his finger down Mycroft's cheek and brushing a thumb over his lips. He leaned over and kissed Mycroft softly and when he pulled away, his voice was low and gruff. "Thank you."

"Whatever for?" Mycroft's brows arched higher.

"For having me." Gregory seemed overcome with emotion. "For saving me."

Mycroft's first instinct was to scoff, but the light in Gregory's eyes made him reconsider. Instead, he smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I rather think we saved each other, don't you?"

Gregory laced his fingers in Mycroft's and squeezed tightly. Nodding, he settled back into his chair and sipped at his cocktail. They stayed like that, hands clasped, quietly watching the view and listening to the buzz of tourists around them and the crash of waves against the sand.

***

Instead of dining poolside, they elected to seek out one of the restaurants Greg had circled in his Santorini guidebook. Mycroft had given him the guidebook over dinner one night, a few months before their wedding. The children were being terrors, screeching and fighting, and Gregory had struggled with the stress of work and planning a wedding and a honeymoon. What he didn't know was that Mycroft chose Santorini months before, because he knew the bright sun and blue skies of Greece would be a welcome respite from the hum-drum normalcy of London. Gregory unwrapped the guidebook and sat, blinking down at it, while the wheels turned and the puzzle pieces snapped together.

"We're going to Greece?"

"Anthea helped make all the arrangements... if that's suitable to you?"

Gregory's slow smile, something Mycroft hadn't seen enough of since they'd begun planning the wedding, spread over his face as he looked up, his eyes lighting up with joy.

"It's perfect!"

It was, indeed, perfect. The desert climate and old-world atmosphere an antidote to their always-on-the-go routine at home. Gregory's skin grew tanner until he looked like a Greek God to Mycroft. Mycroft didn't enjoy the sun as much, given his paler complexion and red hair. But that was why sunscreen and hats existed. He thought he would willingly live on the surface of the sun if it meant being able to look at Gregory, every day, swimming naked in the pool and then stretching out in the sun until all the glittering drops of water evaporated.

They chose the Selene for dinner; Gregory ordered the Octopus Yiouvetzi, with its grilled octopus and clams, creamy orzo, and crunchy truffle chips loaded with tangy olive pâté. Mycroft ate the Hen Avgolemono, the hen served with a poached egg, rice gnocchi, and saffron caviar that popped delightfully on his tongue. They both shared bites from each other's plates, each feeding the other. Mycroft ordered a bottle of the house wine, which they sipped between bites of dinner and, later, dessert. They shared a plate of flaky, sticky Baklava sprinkled with local pistachios. The honey dripped down their fingers and Mycroft captured Gregory's hand in his and popped one of his honey-covered digits into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the sticky sweetness and smiling seductively at his husband.

Gregory's eyes darkened into liquid pools of chocolate and he hummed low in his throat. "Let's get out of here." He said, signaling for the check.

Mycroft's favorite hobby was watching Gregory. It didn't matter what he did, Mycroft enjoyed watching his profile, memorizing the planes of his face. He noted each mark and wrinkle on his skin, cataloging each one in his mind. Now he watched Gregory driving back to the hotel as the sunset painted the sky with brilliant streaks of pink and gold.

"What?" Gregory chuckled, casting a look at Mycroft out of the corner of his eye.

"You're beautiful." Mycroft said, massaging Gregory's upper arm lightly and smiling shyly. "And I'm lucky."

"Oh, sod off!" Gregory laughed. "You romantic fool."

"I _am_ a romantic fool." Mycroft giggled, the wine having mellowed him until his bones felt loose and pliant. "You made me a romantic fool."

"You're _my_ romantic fool, always." Gregory said, rubbing Mycroft's leg, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead. "I love you, Mycroft Holmes."

"To the moon and back?" Mycroft teased, echoing the line Gregory always used on the children.

Gregory flicked his eyes briefly away to connect with Mycroft's, a knowing smile spreading over his face. "Even further."

Satisfied, Mycroft settled back and watched the lights of the city flash by outside. They blurred into one long strip of light against the watercolor sky. The shell-white walls and brilliant blue domes of the buildings glowed in the fading light, shadows dancing as the sun sunk lower on the horizon.

Gregory parked the car and they exited, still facing a climb to return to their hotel room. And so they slipped, sun-drunk and hazy from the wine, up the stone steps towards the hotel. At one point, Mycroft stumbled and caught himself, lowering his body to one of the steps and pulling Gregory into his lap with a throaty laugh and a press of lips against the side of his face.

"C'mon, you dozy goat." Gregory teased, pulling Mycroft up as they tripped up the remaining steps.

An attack of giggles hit them as they tiptoed through the lobby, feeling like teenagers sneaking in from a late night excursion. Finally, they reached the hotel room, falling inside and locking the door. Gregory was already tugging his shirt over his head, revealing a dense covering of grey hair on his chest. Mycroft pressed against him, running his fingers through the hair and pressing his lips to the spot between Gregory's neck and shoulder. He inhaled, catching the scent of sunscreen and the deep notes of the wine they'd drunk at dinner. His hands went to Gregory's shorts, fumbling at the fastenings.

"Let me," Gregory whispered, pushing back Mycroft's hands and unbuttoning his shorts.

Mycroft pushed the shorts over Gregory's hips, revealing black boxer briefs, the front already bulging. Gregory's hands crept under the edge of Mycroft's shirt, splaying his fingers across his belly. Mycroft slipped the shirt over his head and it joined the pile of clothing already on the floor. Gregory's hands moved to Mycroft's buttocks, slipped inside the back pockets of his shorts, and pulled Mycroft's hips so they met his. Mycroft felt Gregory's erection pressed into his leg and he snaked a hand between them, pressing his palm against the bulge. Gregory growled and captured Mycroft's lips in a kiss, nibbling at his bottom lip before he pulled away and worked Mycroft's shorts and pants down in one go. Mycroft was now fully naked, his erect cock bobbing slightly, the tip flushed and already leaking at the top. Gregory reached out and traced a finger over the drop of liquid at the tip, rubbing it in circles with his thumb. Mycroft groaned and felt his legs go weak. He could be with Gregory for eternity and the man would never cease to take him apart and make him whole again each time they made love.

"Tell me what you want." Rasped Gregory, still rubbing his thumb at the head of Mycroft's cock. He shuffled towards their bed, his hand pushing lightly at the small of Mycroft's back to prompt him to follow.

"I want...." Mycroft gulped. "I want you... I want your mouth on me."

"I hoped you were going to say that." Gregory smiled, turning and pushing Mycroft back on the bed.

Mycroft immediately struggled to sit up. "But first, I want you out of those."

He reached for Gregory's boxer briefs, fingers tugging at the waistband. Gregory grinned and helped push them down around his ankles, and then on the floor, revealing his own erection, standing out from a thatch of grey hair at his groin. Gregory hovered over Mycroft, letting the weight of his arousal rest on Mycroft's pale thigh as he dipped his head and ran his tongue along the ridge of Mycroft's clavicle. He blew on the line of saliva, cooling the skin and causing a shiver to course through Mycroft.

"How do I love thee?" Gregory rasped between pressing his lips to Mycroft's skin. "Let me count the ways."

"You're quoting cliché poetry at me _now_?" Mycroft panted.

Gregory moved to capture the nub of Mycroft's nipple in his mouth. He worried at it with his tongue, scraping his teeth over the surface of the sensitive skin. Mycroft let out a shaky whimper and buried his hands in Gregory's hair.

"I love thee to the depth," Gregory lifted his head to whisper more of the poem. "And breadth,"

He moved to Mycroft's other nipple, treating it the same as the first. Mycroft's nails dug lightly into his scalp and he raised his hips to grind against Gregory's heated erection.

"And height." Gregory whispered this against Mycroft's skin, his breath hot and damp.

He rested his cheek against Mycroft's chest, eyes closed, feeling the lift and fall of his breath.

"Gregory?" Mycroft asked, hesitantly. "All right?"

Gregory sighed, his hands tracing circles over Mycroft's abdomen. "I don't know any more of the words."

Mycroft let out a genuine belly laugh and gently bumped his hips against Gregory's once more. "It's okay, you prat. I don't need flowery poetry. I just need you... I need you...."

His voice faded as Gregory resumed his journey downward, kissing his way over Mycroft's stomach and pausing to dip his tongue in his bellybutton. His hands fit in the grooves of Mycroft's hips as he tongued his way around the base of his cock.

"I need.... ah!" Mycroft arched his back as Gregory licked the underside of his cock and wrapped his lips around the head.

Gregory hollowed his cheeks as he took in Mycroft's length, his tongue swirling around the shaft. He hummed, sending vibrations down to the base of Mycroft's cock. Mycroft gathered a fistful of blankets in each hand, his hips jerking as Gregory bobbed his head over his cock. Mycroft's breath came out in small, panting mewls, changing to longer, lower moans when Gregory's hands found his bollocks and cupped them in his palms, squeezing and massaging them lightly. He moved his head off Mycroft's cock and traced his tongue around his bollocks, sucking one and then the other into his mouth. Mycroft's hands were in Gregory's hair again, tugging urgently.

"Gregory... I... I want...."

Gregory moved back up Mycroft's body to capture his lips. He tasted of Mycroft, slightly salty and musky. "What do you want, love?"

Mycroft bucked his hips again, rubbing his cock against Gregory's groin. "I want you inside me. I want to watch you come inside me."

Gregory kissed him once more and then climbed from him momentarily. He fished through their bag and emerged with a tube of coconut oil. Returning to Mycroft, he smiled as he brandished the tube. "I came prepared."

Mycroft returned the smile and reached for the tube. "Let me help."

He flipped open the cap and squeezed some on his hand. He sat up slightly, running his hand over the length of Gregory's cock, spreading the oil liberally. Gregory huffed out a breath and thrust against Mycroft's hand. He took the tube of oil from Mycroft and squeezed some on his fingers. Mycroft laid back, his body pliant and open for Gregory.

"Tell me what you're feeling." Gregory said, pressing a finger to Mycroft's center and spreading oil over the tight bud.

"It feels g-good." Mycroft stammered, the last of his sentence cutting off in a moan as Gregory slipped one finger inside him.

"You can do better than that," laughed Gregory, pushing his finger in and out of Mycroft's ass.

"You make my insides fizz, like champagne." Mycroft gasped.

Gregory slipped a second finger inside, the coconut oil scented the air and made him think of a tropical paradise. "Champagne... the good kind, like we drank at our wedding?"

"Yessss." Mycroft hissed, his hips thrusting up as Gregory's finger grazed his prostate. "And it feels like I'm running."

"Running?"

"Uh-huh...." Mycroft's eyes took on a distant look. "Running with you, to the edge... almost there...."

Gregory withdrew his fingers and bent to kiss Mycroft, their tongues tangling together. "Don't get there before me." He joked. "Are you ready?"

"More than ready... please... Gregory...."

Gregory positioned his cock at Mycroft's entrance and slid in, seating himself firmly. Mycroft groaned and arched against him, wrapping his legs around Gregory's waist.

"Slow?" Gregory asked, pulling out at an agonizing pace before thrusting back in. "Or fast?"

"Aa-aaah!" Mycroft reached down and wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking it slowly, in time to Gregory's thrusts. "Faster... please...."

Gregory covered Mycroft's hand with his own and helped with the strokes as he found his rhythm. He thrust into Mycroft, long, deep thrusts that pulled loud moans of pleasure from Mycroft's throat. Mycroft arched his back, meeting each thrust, his eyes wide open but unseeing as desire washed over him like the waves of the sea outside. Gregory, too, approached the edge, his desire uncoiling and flaring in his stomach. He felt his cock swell and then he was coming inside Mycroft. A moment later, Mycroft cried out and came in a long spurt of liquid that spilled over their hands. Gregory waited until the throbbing waves of orgasm faded before slipping from Mycroft and laying down beside him. Mycroft rolled towards him, nuzzling his face at Gregory's neck and throwing one leg over his hip.

Gregory kissed the top of Mycroft's head. "All right?"

"Mmmmph." Mycroft mumbled into Gregory's neck.

Gregory's laugh rumbled up from his chest, vibrating against Mycroft. He felt exhaustion creeping in now that they'd spent themselves. The wedding had been a lot of planning and work - worthwhile work, but work nonetheless. Neither of them had relaxed in the six months leading up to it and now that they could relax, Gregory felt how much he needed the downtime. "Tired, love?"

"Exhausted." Mycroft turned his face up so he could look at Gregory. "You?"

"Same. I'm glad we're here. The vacation will do us a world of good."

"Mmm." Mycroft's eyes blinked closed and he struggled to open them again. "I don't care where I am as long as I'm with you."

Gregory maneuvered them both so he could pull a blanket around their bodies. "I'll always be with you, love."

"Promise?" Mycroft's hand tangled in the hair at the nape of Gregory's neck, his fingers twisting the strands of grey in a way that made Gregory feel incredibly relaxed.

"Promise." Gregory whispered, smoothing Mycroft's hair off his forehead.

"Will you continue to recite bad poetry at me during sex?"

They both laughed and Gregory playfully squeezed Mycroft's buttocks. "You bet your ass."

"Good... I love you, Gregory Lestrade."

"Gregory Holmes now."

The smile that spread over Mycroft's face could have powered the lights of Santorini with its wattage. "I love you, Gregory Holmes."

Gregory pressed a kiss to Mycroft's lips. "And I love you, Mycroft Holmes."

They looked at each other and in unison said, "To the moon and back."

"And even further." Gregory murmured, his eyes drifting closed.

Mycroft felt Gregory's breathing grow even and deep. He laid his head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic thump-thump of his heart. That was his lullaby as he closed his eyes and fell asleep. His last thoughts were of the morning and a sunrise swim in the pool with his husband, followed by breakfast at the little cafe he'd spotted on their drive home. Tomorrow, he thought, would be a good day. As would the day after that, and the day after that. The rest of their days, the entirety of their lives, would be good. Because Gregory was there, holding his hand, and walking beside him down the road they'd chosen to travel together.


End file.
